I suppose everyone has heard about Dimebag at this point. 
I always said that any music harder than Pantera is just redundancy. They fucking set the bar for being as hardcore as possible without slipping into parody or plain overkill. And half the reason was Dimebag Darrel's mindbending abilities with a guitar.
I have a theory about why genuine talents always seem to die before their time. Camus wrote, "No artist tolerates reality," and I think the reverse is also true; reality doesn't tolerate real artists. Real art, real passion, by it's nature makes you question the integrity of reality, and I think reality does everything it can to drive artists to madness, despair, and early death. The tenuous illusion of the real is threatened by the sheer virtuouso impossiblity of something like a Mozart composition, or a Hendrix guitar solo, or a Van Gogh painting, and so reality uses every agent at it's disposal to defend the illusion necessary to it's very existance. The world does not want to be changed, and it has defeated the vast majority of those who have tried to make a dent. But the little successes, the dents that are made, like drops in the ocean, they eventually add up.
Maybe everyone is allowed a specific ration of inspiration to give the world... some people never use theirs entirely, and fade dimly like distant stars that burn out unremarkably... though some chosen few tap into their stash early and liberally and flash rapid-fire like ladyfingers, graduating to the next level earlier than the rest of us, leaving us poorer for their absence, but one significantly chiseled dent closer to that ultimate sculptured form of an impossible enlightened utopia.
Here's to another dead hero.
Your assignments:
PRINT - Hellblazer : Dangerous Habits
AUDIO - Pantera : Cowboys From Hell
VIDEO - Sam Peckinpah's West: Legacy of a Hollywood Renegade
I always said that any music harder than Pantera is just redundancy. They fucking set the bar for being as hardcore as possible without slipping into parody or plain overkill. And half the reason was Dimebag Darrel's mindbending abilities with a guitar.
I have a theory about why genuine talents always seem to die before their time. Camus wrote, "No artist tolerates reality," and I think the reverse is also true; reality doesn't tolerate real artists. Real art, real passion, by it's nature makes you question the integrity of reality, and I think reality does everything it can to drive artists to madness, despair, and early death. The tenuous illusion of the real is threatened by the sheer virtuouso impossiblity of something like a Mozart composition, or a Hendrix guitar solo, or a Van Gogh painting, and so reality uses every agent at it's disposal to defend the illusion necessary to it's very existance. The world does not want to be changed, and it has defeated the vast majority of those who have tried to make a dent. But the little successes, the dents that are made, like drops in the ocean, they eventually add up.
Maybe everyone is allowed a specific ration of inspiration to give the world... some people never use theirs entirely, and fade dimly like distant stars that burn out unremarkably... though some chosen few tap into their stash early and liberally and flash rapid-fire like ladyfingers, graduating to the next level earlier than the rest of us, leaving us poorer for their absence, but one significantly chiseled dent closer to that ultimate sculptured form of an impossible enlightened utopia.
Here's to another dead hero.
Your assignments:
PRINT - Hellblazer : Dangerous Habits
AUDIO - Pantera : Cowboys From Hell
VIDEO - Sam Peckinpah's West: Legacy of a Hollywood Renegade
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
altoid:
Damn, that OK Corral shit with Omar was excellent....I'm off to watch the rest now... 
altoid:
I watched the rest....and that was some shit. Who would have figured Avon for the hero??